


You cry out in your sleep

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"He loved me but little, I know, yet he was my brother."</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"I chose Robert, did I not? When that hard day came. I chose blood over honor."</i>
</p>
<p> (A Storm of Swords - Davos IV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Love Will Tear Us Apart" by Joy Division.

One day, Robert hit his brother on the mouth so hard, the blow felled him to the ground.

They were alone for the first time since the mourning period ended. The silence in the keep, the bright sunlight reflected on the white cliffs of Durran's Point and the summer heat all pressed heavily upon Robert. It only drove harder on him the sharp need to escape back to Vale, to be assaulted by the cold wind on the climb up to the Eyrie, heralding his return to the comforting company of Ned and Lord Jon. He sought to take his mind off it by setting off to the nearest tavern, possibly collecting a sweet wench along the way, and gain respite from the shadows that seemed to haunt him here in Storm's End.

Instead, he found himself followed by Stannis.

As with most of his conversations with his brother, Robert could not recall what words were exchanged. Though they were born a bare year apart that they were constantly regarded as of the same age, Stannis has yet to have his voice broken. He remembered growling deeply at Stannis to leave him be, and to which Stannis replied that he ought not mark his ascension as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands by fathering a bastard.

He felt the sting in his fist before the flash of guilt at having lost no time fighting with his brother since their parents were laid to rest.

Stannis was right. He was the lord, now, as he was the eldest. There's little Renly to think of, and _gods_ , he had likely damaged his _heir_ \--

Then Stannis sat up and raised his head.

The first thing Robert noticed was the blood pooling on his brother's lower lip, dripping to his chin. Violence stirred in him at the sight of it, despite the already swirling panic and resentment down his gut.

The urge to swing at his brother's face once more was arrested by the look Stannis shot at him.

Robert stepped forward before he thought about doing so. "I'm sorry. Here, let's get you up."

He felt Stannis struggle from his grip, but he knew he was broader in the chest and shoulders, so Robert quickly hauled his brother to his feet.

He was close enough to feel his brother's breath when Robert realized that he has not touched Stannis in a long time. 

His temper was rising again. Stannis had held himself apart even during that storm when their parents--

Stannis continued to give him the same look, so Robert released his crushing hold on his brother's arm.

"You should get Cressen to look at that lip," Robert muttered, his hand twitching as he restrained himself from thumbing at the injury.

Stannis was uncharacteristically silent. Still, this was better than the biting remarks he had been inflicting on Robert, or the cold courtesy he had been bestowing upon everyone else.

Eventually, he walked away. Since then, he did his best to ignore the strange tug of want brought about by the naked fury he had seen in his brother's eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

For his brother's sixteenth name day, Robert decided to acquire the services of an expensive whore for the evening.

 

"No."

 

"Why not?"

 

"I do not desire the attentions of such a woman."

 

"Perhaps experiencing the attentions of such a comely woman might improve your disposition." Robert narrowed his eyes. "Are you still--?" Stannis made a disgusted noise, and Robert put up his hands to placate him, though he could not help but smirk. "That just proves my point."

 

"What bearing does it have with anything?"

 

"Do you even know where to put it in a woman?"

 

The corners of Stannis' lips drew down. "I am not without that sort of knowledge. I hear talk enough about your own exploits, even without the aid of the books Maester Cressen had me read on the matter."

 

"If that is what is stopping you from having your first fuck, I ought to burn your books in the yard."

 

"I will gut you with my knife if you lay a hand on any of my books."

 

"I already paid good money for her!"

 

"I will not have a whore, Robert."

 

Fuming, he ignored Stannis for the entirety of the feast their Great Uncle Harbert has arranged for the occasion. As soon as he ate and drank his fill, he left the hall to enjoy the skills of the brothel's finest.

 

It was pitch black in the keep by the time Robert stumbled through it to get to his rooms. When he tried to slide under the covers, however, he was smacked in the chest by an arm that emerged. He blinked bleary eyes at the sight of his brother's indignant face.

 

"Are your wits so addled that you got lost in your own tower?" Stannis hissed.

 

Robert could only stare at the unexpected appearance of his brother. "What are you doing here?"

 

"This is my bedchamber, and clearly you are too drunk to notice." Scowling, he pointed behind Robert. "Call for a servant to escort you to yours, as it appears that the lord of the castle is no better than a cat that wanders into where he is not wanted."

 

Lightning-fast rage had Robert clutching his brother by the jaw with one hand, and shoving him down with the other. "You have no right to speak to me that way."

 

"Get off me!" Stannis attempted to pull himself free, but Robert had already bore his entire weight down on him that there was little he could do but make bucking motions.

 

"Apologize!" Robert snarled, pinning both his brother's flailing arms.

 

Through the haze of inebriation, he was aware that this was not like the grappling matches that he has had, where subduing his opponents gave him satisfaction. This was fueled by a dark need for something he did not possess. Robert was unrivaled in martial prowess and hailed with regard. Stannis was second to him in every way. And yet whenever he was with his brother, it felt like Stannis was slipping away, in his indifference to Robert in everything except when pointing out his flaws.

 

It took Robert some moments to see through the darkness, but there it was again--Stannis' fury was incandescent in his eyes, and the answering pull within Robert made his heart thud deafeningly.

 

His response was to press closer in an attempt to follow this elusive feeling, while his brother pressed forward to push him away.

 

He did not know when their motions of seeking leverage began to slide into rutting against each other, until he heard Stannis starting to breathe heavily. His own small clothes abruptly felt too tight, and he found himself exerting less effort in straddling his brother.

 

That was when it came upon him how to keep Stannis in his place.

 

Keeping his brother constricted, Robert determinedly ground down his pelvis in hard, circular motions, the way the whore had him entertained him earlier. Underneath him, he felt Stannis tremble from holding himself silent.

 

Sensing that this would not take long, Robert let himself smile as he lowered his lips to his brother's ear. "You are no better than I am, Stannis. You want this, too."

 

A loud gasp and a hard thrust against him signaled to Robert that it was over.

 

He quickly released his brother and pushed himself up to gaze at his triumph. Stannis had his eyes directed towards the ceiling, but from the slackness of his jaw and the listless set of his shoulders, Robert knew that he had done well.

 

Suffused with cheer, he launched himself off the bed and bade his brother good night before making his way to his own rooms without help. He then rubbed off his own release before settling himself for the sleep of the satisfied.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Lyanna was everything sharply bright in the world, and her one glance cut through the heart of him, Robert avowed.

 

The moment they met had the ethereal softness that imbued a dream. Drinking in the sight of her was like one's first breath of clean and crisp mountain air, after being surrounded by the scent of salty sea and the humidity before a storm for so long.

 

Making Ned crack a smile whenever he recounted the experience was an added benefit.

 

Plans of betrothal pervaded his waking and sleeping hours, until news arrived of Great Uncle Harbert's poor health and subsequent death, and with it he was bid to come down from the Eyrie and return to the Stormlands.

 

It was all Robert could do to elude the oppressive atmosphere of loss, a quality that seemed to mark most of his visits to Storm's End. Even the sun shining at its peak while he went off hunting did nothing to dispel the gloom. It did not help matters that as soon as he crossed paths with Stannis, it was as if the mere sight of his younger brother sent the merry band around him to scatter. He could hardly blame them. At a glimpse of Stannis, one would believe they were trailed by some noxious fumes, because no one could be as young as his brother and make a face like nothing could ever please him.

 

Predictably, Stannis brought with him tasks and his overarching opinion that they need to be accomplished urgently. He could not have cared less for choosing the replacement castellan, but Stannis refused to be deterred from haranguing Robert in making the decision.

 

Taking inspiration from his increasingly dull brother, Robert ventured in their parents' library, upon ascertaining neither Maester Cressen nor any cleaning servant were present. He settled in for a day free of Stannis, for no one would think of looking for him there.

 

Secluding himself with a pitcher of wine in a dark alcove between bookshelves, he was daydreaming about Lyanna's hand on his, when Stannis invaded his spot.

 

He saw his brother open his mouth to begin prating at him of a lord's duties. Robert jumped from his seat, knowing he has to act quickly to stop him.

 

Keeping the lovely picture of Lyanna in mind, Robert shoved his brother hard towards a shelf, causing Stannis to fall back on it in surprise. With no intention of allowing Stannis any room to protest, he seized his brother by the back of the neck and shoved a thigh between his legs. He used his other hand to hold Stannis by the wrist, pressing it against the edge of a shelf. The corners of his mouth lifted when he saw his brother's blue eyes widen.

 

Robert set himself to draw out such responses, chasing the heady feeling brought by Stannis writhing in the effort of keeping himself from making a sound. He relished waiting for the shift when his brother's hand, with a fistful of Robert's tunic in his grasp, turned from pulling Robert off of him to holding on.

 

Seeing the red marks he was leaving on the juncture of his brother's neck and shoulder, it enflamed his own skin until he has driven both of them to release.

 

He slowly eased his grip on his brother's hair at the base of his skull, and started kneading. Lifting his mouth from his brother's neck to scent behind his ear, he lowered Stannis from his thigh so Stannis could lean on the musty old books at his back.

 

As soon as Robert let go of his brother's wrist, Stannis dropped his clasp of Robert's tunic. He took some steadying breaths before moving away from the shelf, and started straightening his clothing.

 

There was no hiding the sheen of sweat on Stannis' brow. Robert started to lean forward to taste, but Stannis side-stepped, voicing an irritable reminder that Renly requested their presence for his first riding lesson the next day. Uncaring of his own disheveled appearance, he kept his smirk from view upon Stannis leaving as fast as he had arrived, before returning to his seat in the alcove and pouring himself another drink.

 

It amused him of late that Stannis, without any prompting, had taken to keeping him apprised of all matters great and small pertaining to Renly. Robert would have expected it from old Cressen, so he suspected that Stannis had gotten himself attached. He recalled how the habit started at Renly's early years, having followed that whenever he sought to locate his brother's whereabouts, he discovered that Stannis frequented the nursery. It then became a pattern for Robert to drag him away from his intent study of their baby brother if he needed him for anything.

 

In the recent years when he took himself to Storm's End, he would often find Stannis trailed by little Renly. Unyielding and humorless as he was, nonetheless Stannis tolerated being seen with a child clambering all over him. It became commonplace for Robert to watch Stannis plucking Renly from his waist to lecture him fruitlessly.

 

Robert wondered once if he should be jealous of the free rein Stannis let Renly have on his person, before dismissing the need for such a thing. He has Stannis where he wanted him.

 

The following day came, and Renly's face brightened every time Robert called out encouragement over the gruffly worded directions of the riding instructor. After a successful canter around the yard, Renly leapt from the saddle to Robert's waiting arms. His babble turned to delighted shrieks when Robert raised him up the air and whirled him around. As soon as he was set down, Renly slipped past Robert and almost bowled over Stannis, who stood further behind, with the force of his enthusiasm.

 

"Did you see me, Stannis?"

 

"I watched you the entire time."

 

"But did you see what I did?"

 

"Your form is acceptable, for a beginner."

 

Renly gave out a loud whoop before regaling all within hearing the wonderful qualities of his pony, and reciting his exact feelings upon obeying the sequence of instructions given. Robert supposed his role here was done. Going off in search of entertainment, he found himself peering at his brothers before he left.

 

The pained way Stannis held himself while Renly clutched and tugged at him was a sight that Robert approved. It was hardly distinguishable from his usual dour expression, and it filled Robert with glee to be privy to what is hidden underneath Stannis' high collar.

 

He fancied whispering teasingly to Stannis about his excellent form when he rode Robert's thigh yesterday, just to see the look on his face.

 

He has heard people call him The Laughing Storm reborn, heir to the legacy of a man who fought ferociously until his last breath. Robert would gaze at the portrait of his great grandfather, pondering if their similarities came down to how his blood would run so hot that his will was compelled by his constant restlessness.

 

He idly considered the prospect of having Lyanna as his wife would be what could calm the incessant burning and thrumming in his veins. Perhaps then he could finally be content to stay in Storm's End.

 

When the announcement of the tourney at Harrenhal came at the heels of Lord Jon's success in arranging Robert's betrothal to Lyanna, he was almost beside himself with joy that previously was only felt at the defeat of a worthy opponent in combat. He had never looked forward to more than anything in his life.

 

If he were to be asked what it was about her that drew his fascination, it was the unrestrained wildness within Lyanna. He had seen it when their gazes met, despite her opaque demeanor around him. Oh, she would be as icy as any Stark when in the presence of other company. In her eyes, however, he could see life dancing like a fanned flame.

 

The way she looked at him seemed familiar somehow.

 

 

 

* * *


End file.
